Life Of Johnson, Vol. 1 by Boswell, Edited by Birkbeck Hill

Its easy to link to paragraphs in the Full Text ArchiveIf this page contains some material that you want to link to but you don't want your visitors to have to scroll down the whole page just hover your mouse over the relevent paragraph and click the bookmark icon that appears to the left of it. The address of that paragraph will appear in the address bar of your browser. For further details about how you can link to the Full Text Archive please refer to our linking page.

better fixed in his memory, she sent him to repeat it to Thomas Jackson,their man-servant; he not being in the way, this was not done; but therewas no occasion for any artificial aid for its preservation.

In following so very eminent a man from his cradle to his grave, everyminute particular, which can throw light on the progress of his mind, isinteresting. That he was remarkable, even in his earliest years, mayeasily be supposed; for to use his own words in his Life of Sydenham,

'That the strength of his understanding, the accuracy of hisdiscernment, and ardour of his curiosity, might have been remarked fromhis infancy, by a diligent observer, there is no reason to doubt. For,there is no instance of any man, whose history has been minutelyrelated, that did not in every part of life discover the same proportionof intellectual vigour[124].'

In all such investigations it is certainly unwise to pay too muchattention to incidents which the credulous relate with eagersatisfaction, and the more scrupulous or witty enquirer considers onlyas topicks of ridicule: Yet there is a traditional story of the infantHercules of toryism, so curiously characteristick, that I shall notwithhold it. It was communicated to me in a letter from Miss Mary Adye,of Lichfield:

[Page 39: Anecdotes of Johnson's childhood.]

'When Dr. Sacheverel was at Lichfield, Johnson was not quite three yearsold. My grandfather Hammond observed him at the cathedral perched uponhis father's shoulders, listening and gaping at the much celebratedpreacher. Mr. Hammond asked Mr. Johnson how he could possibly think ofbringing such an infant to church, and in the midst of so great a croud.He answered, because it was impossible to keep him at home; for, youngas he was, he believed he had caught the publick spirit and zeal forSacheverel, and would have staid for ever in the church, satisfied withbeholding him[125].'

Nor can I omit a little instance of that jealous independence of spirit,and impetuosity of temper, which never forsook him. The fact wasacknowledged to me by himself, upon the authority of his mother. Oneday, when the servant who used to be sent to school to conduct him home,had not come in time, he set out by himself, though he was then sonear-sighted, that he was obliged to stoop down on his hands and kneesto take a view of the kennel before he ventured to step over it. Hisschool-mistress, afraid that he might miss his way, or fall into thekennel, or be run over by a cart, followed him at some distance. Hehappened to turn about and perceive her. Feeling her careful attentionas an insult to his manliness, he ran back to her in a rage, and beather, as well as his strength would permit.

Of the power of his memory, for which he was all his life eminent to adegree almost incredible[126], the following early instance was told me inhis presence at Lichfield, in 1776, by his step-daughter, Mrs. LucyPorter, as related to her by his mother.

[Page 40: Johnson's infant precocity. A.D. 1712.]

When he was a child in petticoats, and had learnt to read, Mrs. Johnsonone morning put the common prayer-book into his hands, pointed to thecollect for the day, and said, 'Sam, you must get this by heart.' Shewent up stairs, leaving him to study it: But by the time she had reachedthe second floor, she heard him following her. 'What's the matter?' saidshe. 'I can say it,' he replied; and repeated it distinctly, though hecould not have read it more than twice.

But there has been another story of his infant precocity generallycirculated, and generally believed, the truth of which I am to refuteupon his own authority. It is told[127], that, when a child of three yearsold, he chanced to tread upon a duckling, the eleventh of a brood, andkilled it; upon which, it is said, he dictated to his mother thefollowing epitaph:

'Here lies good master duck, Whom Samuel Johnson trod on;If it had liv'd, it had been _good luck_, For then we'd had an _odd one_.'

There is surely internal evidence that this little composition combinesin it, what no child of three years old could produce, without anextension of its faculties by immediate inspiration; yet Mrs. LucyPorter, Dr. Johnson's step-daughter, positively maintained to me, in hispresence, that there could be no doubt of the truth of this anecdote,for she had heard it from his mother. So difficult is it to obtain anauthentick relation of facts, and such authority may there be forerrour; for he assured me, that his father made the verses, and wishedto pass them for his child's. He added, 'my father was a foolish oldman[128]; that is to say, foolish in talking of his children[129].'

[Page 41: His eyesight.]

[Page 42: The king's evil.]

Young Johnson had the misfortune to be much afflicted with thescrophula, or king's evil, which disfigured a countenance naturally wellformed, and hurt his visual nerves so much, that he did not see at allwith one of his eyes, though its appearance was little different fromthat of the other. There is amongst his prayers, one inscribed '_Whenmy_ EYE _was restored to its use_[130],' which ascertains a defect thatmany of his friends knew he had, though I never perceived it[131]. Isupposed him to be only near-sighted; and indeed I must observe, that inno other respect could I discern any defect in his vision; on thecontrary, the force of his attention and perceptive quickness made himsee and distinguish all manner of objects, whether of nature or of art,with a nicety that is rarely to be found. When he and I were travellingin the Highlands of Scotland, and I pointed out to him a mountain whichI observed resembled a cone, he corrected my inaccuracy, by shewing me,that it was indeed pointed at the top, but that one side of it waslarger than the other[132]. And the ladies with whom he was acquaintedagree, that no man was more nicely and minutely critical in the eleganceof female dress[133]. When I found that he saw the romantick beauties ofIslam, in Derbyshire, much better than I did, I told him that heresembled an able performer upon a bad instrument[134]. How false andcontemptible then are all the remarks which have been made to theprejudice either of his candour or of his philosophy, founded upon asupposition that he was almost blind. It has been said, that hecontracted this grievous malady from his nurse[135]. His mother yieldingto the superstitious notion, which, it is wonderful to think, prevailedso long in this country, as to the virtue of the regal touch; a notion,which our kings encouraged, and to which a man of such inquiry and suchjudgement as Carte[136] could give credit; carried him to London, where hewas actually touched by Queen Anne. Mrs. Johnson indeed, as Mr. Hectorinformed me, acted by the advice of the celebrated Sir John Floyer[137],then a physician in Lichfield. Johnson used to talk of this veryfrankly; and Mrs. Piozzi has preserved his very picturesque descriptionof the scene, as it remained upon his fancy. Being asked if he couldremember Queen Anne, 'He had (he said) a confused, but somehow a sort ofsolemn recollection of a lady in diamonds, and a long black hood[138].'This touch, however, was without any effect. I ventured to say to him,in allusion to the political principles in which he was educated, and ofwhich he ever retained some odour, that 'his mother had not carried himfar enough; she should have taken him to ROME.'

[Page 43: Johnson at a dame's school.]

He was first taught to read English by Dame Oliver[139], a widow, who kepta school for young children in Lichfield. He told me she could read theblack letter, and asked him to borrow for her, from his father, a biblein that character. When he was going to Oxford, she came to take leaveof him, brought him, in the simplicity of her kindness, a present ofgingerbread, and said, he was the best scholar she ever had. Hedelighted in mentioning this early compliment: adding, with a smile,that 'this was as high a proof of his merit as he could conceive.' Hisnext instructor in English was a master, whom, when he spoke of him tome, he familiarly called Tom Brown, who, said he, 'published aspelling-book, and dedicated it to the UNIVERSE; but, I fear, no copy ofit can now be had[140].'

[Page 44: Lichfield School.]

He began to learn Latin[141] with Mr. Hawkins, usher, or under-master ofLichfield school, 'a man (said he) very skilful in his little way.' Withhim he continued two years[142], and then rose to be under the care of Mr.Hunter, the head-master, who, according to his account, 'was verysevere, and wrong-headedly severe. He used (said he) to beat usunmercifully; and he did not distinguish between ignorance andnegligence; for he would beat a boy equally for not knowing a thing, asfor neglecting to know it. He would ask a boy a question; and if he didnot answer it, he would beat him, without considering whether he had anopportunity of knowing how to answer it. For instance, he would call upa boy and ask him Latin for a candlestick, which the boy could notexpect to be asked. Now, Sir, if a boy could answer every question,there would be no need of a master to teach him.'

[Page 45: Johnson's school-fellows.]

It is, however, but justice to the memory of Mr. Hunter to mention, thatthough he might err in being too severe, the school of Lichfield wasvery respectable in his time[143]. The late Dr. Taylor, Prebendary ofWestminster, who was educated under him, told me, that 'he was anexcellent master, and that his ushers were most of them men of eminence;that Holbrook, one of the most ingenious men, best scholars, and bestpreachers of his age, was usher during the greatest part of the timethat Johnson was at school[144]. Then came Hague, of whom as much might besaid, with the addition that he was an elegant poet. Hague was succeededby Green, afterwards Bishop of Lincoln, whose character in the learnedworld is well known[145]. In the same form with Johnson was Congreve[146],who afterwards became chaplain to Archbishop Boulter, and by thatconnection obtained good preferment in Ireland. He was a younger son ofthe ancient family of Congreve, in Staffordshire, of which the poet wasa branch. His brother sold the estate. There was also Lowe, afterwardsCanon of Windsor[147].'

[Page 46: Mr. Hunter.]

Indeed Johnson was very sensible how much he owed to Mr. Hunter. Mr.Langton one day asked him how he had acquired so accurate a knowledge ofLatin, in which, I believe, he was exceeded by no man of his time; hesaid, 'My master whipt me very well. Without that, Sir, I should havedone nothing.' He told Mr. Langton, that while Hunter was flogging hisboys unmercifully, he used to say, 'And this I do to save you from thegallows.' Johnson, upon all occasions, expressed his approbation ofenforcing instruction by means of the rod[148]. 'I would rather (said he)have the rod to be the general terrour to all, to make them learn, thantell a child, if you do thus, or thus, you will be more esteemed thanyour brothers or sisters. The rod produces an effect which terminates initself. A child is afraid of being whipped, and gets his task, andthere's an end on't; whereas, by exciting emulation and comparisons ofsuperiority, you lay the foundation of lasting mischief; you makebrothers and sisters hate each other[149].'

When Johnson saw some young ladies in Lincolnshire who were remarkablywell behaved, owing to their mother's strict discipline and severecorrection[150], he exclaimed, in one of Shakspeare's lines a littlevaried,

'_Rod_, I will honour thee for this thy duty[151].'

[Page 47: Johnson a King of men.]

That superiority over his fellows, which he maintained with so muchdignity in his march through life, was not assumed from vanity andostentation, but was the natural and constant effect of thoseextraordinary powers of mind, of which he could not but be conscious bycomparison; the intellectual difference, which in other cases ofcomparison of characters, is often a matter of undecided contest, beingas clear in his case as the superiority of stature in some men aboveothers. Johnson did not strut or stand on tip-toe: He only did notstoop. From his earliest years his superiority was perceived andacknowledged[152]. He was from the beginning [Greek: anax andron], a kingof men. His schoolfellow, Mr. Hector, has obligingly furnished me withmany particulars of his boyish days[153]: and assured me that he neverknew him corrected at school, but for talking and diverting other boysfrom their business. He seemed to learn by intuition; for thoughindolence and procrastination were inherent in his constitution,whenever he made an exertion he did more than any one else. In short, heis a memorable instance of what has been often observed, that the boy isthe man in miniature: and that the distinguishing characteristicks ofeach individual are the same, through the whole course of life. Hisfavourites used to receive very liberal assistance from him; and suchwas the submission and deference with which he was treated, such thedesire to obtain his regard, that three of the boys, of whom Mr. Hectorwas sometimes one, used to come in the morning as his humble attendants,and carry him to school. One in the middle stooped, while he sat uponhis back, and one on each side supported him; and thus he was bornetriumphant. Such a proof of the early predominance of intellectualvigour is very remarkable, and does honour to human nature. Talking tome once himself of his being much distinguished at school, he told me,'they never thought to raise me by comparing me to any one; they neversaid, Johnson is as good a scholar as such a one; but such a one is asgood a scholar as Johnson; and this was said but of one, but of Lowe;and I do not think he was as good a scholar.'

[Page 48: Johnson's tenacious memory.]

He discovered a great ambition to excel, which roused him to counteracthis indolence. He was uncommonly inquisitive; and his memory was sotenacious, that he never forgot any thing that he either heard or read.Mr. Hector remembers having recited to him eighteen verses, which, aftera little pause, he repeated _verbatim_, varying only one epithet, bywhich he improved the line.

He never joined with the other boys in their ordinary diversions: hisonly amusement was in winter, when he took a pleasure in being drawnupon the ice by a boy barefooted, who pulled him along by a garter fixedround him; no very easy operation, as his size was remarkably large. Hisdefective sight, indeed, prevented him from enjoying the common sports;and he once pleasantly remarked to me, 'how wonderfully well he hadcontrived to be idle without them.' Lord Chesterfield, however, hasjustly observed in one of his letters, when earnestly cautioning afriend against the pernicious effects of idleness, that active sportsare not to be reckoned idleness in young people; and that the listlesstorpor of doing nothing, alone deserves that name[154]. Of this dismalinertness of disposition, Johnson had all his life too great a share.Mr. Hector relates, that 'he could not oblige him more than bysauntering away the hours of vacation in the fields, during which he wasmore engaged in talking to himself than to his companion.'

[Page 49: His fondness for romances.]

Dr. Percy[155], the Bishop of Dromore, who was long intimately acquaintedwith him, and has preserved a few anecdotes concerning him, regrettingthat he was not a more diligent collector, informs me, that 'when a boyhe was immoderately fond of reading romances of chivalry, and heretained his fondness for them through life; so that (adds his Lordship)spending part of a summer[156] at my parsonage-house in the country, hechose for his regular reading the old Spanish romance of _Felixmarte ofHircania_, in folio, which he read quite through[157]. Yet I have heardhim attribute to these extravagant fictions that unsettled turn of mindwhich prevented his ever fixing in any profession.'

[Page 50: Stourbridge School.]

1725: AETAT. 16.--After having resided for some time at the house of hisuncle, Cornelius Ford[158], Johnson was, at the age of fifteen, removed tothe school of Stourbridge, in Worcestershire, of which Mr. Wentworth wasthen master. This step was taken by the advice of his cousin, theReverend Mr. Ford, a man in whom both talents and good dispositions weredisgraced by licentiousness[159], but who was a very able judge of whatwas right.

At this school he did not receive so much benefit as was expected. Ithas been said, that he acted in the capacity of an assistant to Mr.Wentworth, in teaching the younger boys. 'Mr. Wentworth (he told me) wasa very able man, but an idle man, and to me very severe; but I cannotblame him much. I was then a big boy; he saw I did not reverence him;and that he should get no honour by me. I had brought enough with me, tocarry me through; and all I should get at his school would be ascribedto my own labour, or to my former master. Yet he taught me a greatdeal.'

He thus discriminated, to Dr. Percy, Bishop of Dromore, his progress athis two grammar-schools. 'At one, I learnt much in the school, butlittle from the master; in the other, I learnt much from the master, butlittle in the school.'

The Bishop also informs me, that 'Dr. Johnson's father, before he wasreceived at Stourbridge, applied to have him admitted as a scholar andassistant to the Reverend Samuel Lea, M.A., head master of Newportschool, in Shropshire (a very diligent, good teacher, at that time inhigh reputation, under whom Mr. Hollis[160] is said, in the Memoirs of hisLife, to have been also educated[161]). This application to Mr. Lea wasnot successful; but Johnson had afterwards the gratification to hearthat the old gentleman, who lived to a very advanced age, mentioned itas one of the most memorable events of his life, that 'he was very nearhaving that great man for his scholar.'

He remained at Stourbridge little more than a year, and then returnedhome, where he may be said to have loitered, for two years, in a statevery unworthy his uncommon abilities. He had already given severalproofs of his poetical genius, both in his school-exercises and in otheroccasional compositions. Of these I have obtained a considerablecollection, by the favour of Mr. Wentworth, son of one of his masters,and of Mr. Hector, his school-fellow and friend; from which I select thefollowing specimens:

[Page 51: Johnson's youthful compositions.]

_Translation of_ VIRGIL. Pastoral I.

MELIBOEUS.

Now, Tityrus, you, supine and careless laid,Play on your pipe beneath this beechen shade;While wretched we about the world must roam,And leave our pleasing fields and native home,Here at your ease you sing your amorous flame,And the wood rings with Amarillis' name.

TITYRUS.

Those blessings, friend, a deity bestow'd,For I shall never think him less than God;Oft on his altar shall my firstlings lie,Their blood the consecrated stones shall dye:He gave my flocks to graze the flowery meads,And me to tune at ease th' unequal reeds.

MELIBOEUS.

My admiration only I exprest,(No spark of envy harbours in my breast)That, when confusion o'er the country reigns,To you alone this happy state remains.Here I, though faint myself, must drive my goats,Far from their ancient fields and humble cots.This scarce I lead, who left on yonder rockTwo tender kids, the hopes of all the flock.Had we not been perverse and careless grown,This dire event by omens was foreshown;Our trees were blasted by the thunder stroke, )And left-hand crows, from an old hollow oak, )Foretold the coming evil by their dismal croak. )

Niphates rolls an humbler wave, At length the undaunted Scythian yields,Content to live the Roman's slave, And scarce forsakes his native fields.

_Translation of part of the Dialogue between_ HECTOR _and_ ANDROMACHE;_from the Sixth Book of_ HOMER'S ILIAD.

She ceas'd: then godlike Hector answer'd kind,(His various plumage sporting in the wind)That post, and all the rest, shall be my care;But shall I, then, forsake the unfinished war?How would the Trojans brand great Hector's name!And one base action sully all my fame,Acquired by wounds and battles bravely fought!Oh! how my soul abhors so mean a thought.Long since I learn'd to slight this fleeting breath,And view with cheerful eyes approaching deathThe inexorable sisters have decreedThat Priam's house, and Priam's self shall bleed:The day will come, in which proud Troy shall yield,And spread its smoking ruins o'er the field.Yet Hecuba's, nor Priam's hoary age,Whose blood shall quench some Grecian's thirsty rage,Nor my brave brothers, that have bit the ground,Their souls dismiss'd through many a ghastly wound,Can in my bosom half that grief create,As the sad thought of your impending fate:When some proud Grecian dame shall tasks impose,Mimick your tears, and ridicule your woes;Beneath Hyperia's waters shall you sweat,And, fainting, scarce support the liquid weight:Then shall some Argive loud insulting cry,Behold the wife of Hector, guard of Troy!Tears, at my name, shall drown those beauteous eyes,And that fair bosom heave with rising sighs!Before that day, by some brave hero's handMay I lie slain, and spurn the bloody sand.

_To a_ YOUNG LADY _on her_ BIRTH-DAY[162].

This tributary verse receive my fair,Warm with an ardent lover's fondest pray'r.May this returning day for ever findThy form more lovely, more adorn'd thy mind;All pains, all cares, may favouring heav'n remove,All but the sweet solicitudes of love!May powerful nature join with grateful art,To point each glance, and force it to the heart!O then, when conquered crouds confess thy sway,When ev'n proud wealth and prouder wit obey,My fair, be mindful of the mighty trust,Alas! 'tis hard for beauty to be just.Those sovereign charms with strictest care employ;Nor give the generous pain, the worthless joy:With his own form acquaint the forward fool,Shewn in the faithful glass of ridicule;Teach mimick censure her own faults to find, )No more let coquettes to themselves be blind, )So shall Belinda's charms improve mankind. )

THE YOUNG AUTHOUR[163].

When first the peasant, long inclin'd to roam,Forsakes his rural sports and peaceful home,Pleas'd with the scene the smiling ocean yields,He scorns the verdant meads and flow'ry fields:Then dances jocund o'er the watery way,While the breeze whispers, and the streamers play:Unbounded prospects in his bosom roll,And future millions lift his rising soul;In blissful dreams he digs the golden mine,And raptur'd sees the new-found ruby shine.Joys insincere! thick clouds invade the skies,Loud roar the billows, high the waves arise;Sick'ning with fear, he longs to view the shore,And vows to trust the faithless deep no more.So the young Authour, panting after fame,And the long honours of a lasting name,Entrusts his happiness to human kind,More false, more cruel, than the seas or wind.'Toil on, dull croud, in extacies he cries,For wealth or title, perishable prize;While I those transitory blessings scorn,Secure of praise from ages yet unborn.'This thought once form'd, all council comes too late,He flies to press, and hurries on his fate;Swiftly he sees the imagin'd laurels spread,And feels the unfading wreath surround his head.Warn'd by another's fate, vain youth be wise,Those dreams were Settle's[164] once, and Ogilby's[165]:The pamphlet spreads, incessant hisses rise,To some retreat the baffled writer flies;Where no sour criticks snarl, no sneers molest,Safe from the tart lampoon, and stinging jest;There begs of heaven a less distinguish'd lot,Glad to be hid, and proud to be forgot.

EPILOGUE, _intended to have been spoken by a_ LADY _who was to personatethe Ghost of_ HERMIONE[166].

Ye blooming train, who give despair or joy,Bless with a smile, or with a frown destroy;In whose fair cheeks destructive Cupids wait,And with unerring shafts distribute fate;Whose snowy breasts, whose animated eyes,Each youth admires, though each admirer dies;Whilst you deride their pangs in barb'rous play, }Unpitying see them weep, and hear them pray, }And unrelenting sport ten thousand lives away; }For you, ye fair, I quit the gloomy plains;Where sable night in all her horrour reigns;No fragrant bowers, no delightful glades,Receive the unhappy ghosts of scornful maids.For kind, for tender nymphs the myrtle blooms,And weaves her bending boughs in pleasing glooms:Perennial roses deck each purple vale,And scents ambrosial breathe in every gale:Far hence are banish'd vapours, spleen, and tears,Tea, scandal, ivory teeth, and languid airs:No pug, nor favourite Cupid there enjoysThe balmy kiss, for which poor Thyrsis dies;Form'd to delight, they use no foreign arms,Nor torturing whalebones pinch them into charms;No conscious blushes there their cheeks inflame,For those who feel no guilt can know no shame;Unfaded still their former charms they shew,Around them pleasures wait, and joys for ever new.But cruel virgins meet severer fates;Expell'd and exil'd from the blissful seats,To dismal realms, and regions void of peace,Where furies ever howl, and serpents hiss.O'er the sad plains perpetual tempests sigh,And pois'nous vapours, black'ning all the sky,With livid hue the fairest face o'ercast,And every beauty withers at the blast:Where e'er they fly their lover's ghosts pursue,Inflicting all those ills which once they knew;Vexation, Fury, Jealousy, Despair,Vex ev'ry eye, and every bosom tear;Their foul deformities by all descry'd,No maid to flatter, and no paint to hide.Then melt, ye fair, while crouds around you sigh,Nor let disdain sit lowring in your eye;With pity soften every awful grace,And beauty smile auspicious in each face;To ease their pains exert your milder power,So shall you guiltless reign, and all mankind adore.'

[Page 57: His wide reading. AETAT. 19.]

The two years which he spent at home, after his return from Stourbridge,he passed in what he thought idleness[167], and was scolded by his fatherfor his want of steady application[168]. He had no settled plan of life,nor looked forward at all, but merely lived from day to day. Yet he reada great deal in a desultory manner, without any scheme of study, aschance threw books in his way, and inclination directed him throughthem. He used to mention one curious instance of his casual reading,when but a boy. Having imagined that his brother had hid some applesbehind a large folio upon an upper shelf in his father's shop, heclimbed up to search for them. There were no apples; but the large folioproved to be Petrarch, whom he had seen mentioned in some preface, asone of the restorers of learning. His curiosity having been thusexcited, he sat down with avidity, and read a great part of the book.What he read during these two years he told me, was not works of mereamusement, 'not voyages and travels, but all literature, Sir, allancient writers, all manly: though but little Greek, only some ofAnacreon and Hesiod; but in this irregular manner (added he) I hadlooked into a great many books, which were not commonly known at theUniversities, where they seldom read any books but what are put intotheir hands by their tutors; so that when I came to Oxford, Dr. Adams,now master of Pembroke College, told me I was the best qualified for theUniversity that he had ever known come there[169].'

In estimating the progress of his mind during these two years, as wellas in future periods of his life, we must not regard his own hastyconfession of idleness; for we see, when he explains himself, that hewas acquiring various stores; and, indeed he himself concluded theaccount with saying, 'I would not have you think I was doing nothingthen.' He might, perhaps, have studied more assiduously; but it may bedoubted whether such a mind as his was not more enriched by roaming atlarge in the fields of literature than if it had been confined to anysingle spot. The analogy between body and mind is very general, and theparallel will hold as to their food, as well as any other particular.The flesh of animals who feed excursively, is allowed to have a higherflavour than that of those who are cooped up. May there not be the samedifference between men who read as their taste prompts and men who areconfined in cells and colleges to stated tasks?

[Page 58: Johnson enters Oxford. A.D. 1728.]

That a man in Mr. Michael Johnson's circumstances should think ofsending his son to the expensive University of Oxford, at his owncharge, seems very improbable. The subject was too delicate to questionJohnson upon. But I have been assured by Dr. Taylor that the schemenever would have taken place had not a gentleman of Shropshire, one ofhis schoolfellows, spontaneously undertaken to support him at Oxford, inthe character of his companion; though, in fact, he never received anyassistance whatever from that gentleman[170].

He, however, went to Oxford, and was entered a Commoner of PembrokeCollege on the 31st of October, 1728[171], being then in his nineteenthyear[172].

[Page 59: His first tutor. AETAT. 19.]

The Reverend Dr. Adams, who afterwards presided over Pembroke Collegewith universal esteem, told me he was present, and gave me some accountof what passed on the night of Johnson's arrival at Oxford[173]. On thatevening, his father, who had anxiously accompanied him, found means tohave him introduced to Mr. Jorden, who was to be his tutor. His beingput under any tutor reminds us of what Wood says of Robert Burton,authour of the 'Anatomy of Melancholy,' when elected student of ChristChurch: 'for form's sake, _though he wanted not a tutor_, he was putunder the tuition of Dr. John Bancroft, afterwards Bishop of Oxon[174].'

His father seemed very full of the merits of his son, and told thecompany he was a good scholar, and a poet, and wrote Latin verses. Hisfigure and manner appeared strange to them; but he behaved modestly, andsat silent, till upon something which occurred in the course ofconversation, he suddenly struck in and quoted Macrobius; and thus hegave the first impression of that more extensive reading in which he hadindulged himself.

His tutor, Mr. Jorden, fellow of Pembroke, was not, it seems, a man ofsuch abilities as we should conceive requisite for the instructor ofSamuel Johnson, who gave me the following account of him. 'He was a veryworthy man, but a heavy man, and I did not profit much by hisinstructions. Indeed, I did not attend him much[175]. The first day afterI came to college I waited upon him, and then staid away four. On thesixth, Mr. Jorden asked me why I had not attended. I answered I had beensliding in Christ-Church meadow[176]. And this I said with as muchnonchalance as I am now[177] talking to you. I had no notion that I waswrong or irreverent to my tutor[178]. BOSWELL: 'That, Sir, was greatfortitude of mind.' JOHNSON: 'No, Sir; stark insensibility[179].'

[Page 60: The fifth of November. A.D. 1728.]

The fifth of November[180] was at that time kept with great solemnity atPembroke College, and exercises upon the subject of the day wererequired[181]. Johnson neglected to perform his, which is much to beregretted; for his vivacity of imagination, and force of language, wouldprobably have produced something sublime upon the gunpowder plot[182]. Toapologise for his neglect, he gave in a short copy of verses, entitledSomnium, containing a common thought; 'that the Muse had come to him inhis sleep, and whispered, that it did not become him to write on suchsubjects as politicks; he should confine himself to humbler themes:' butthe versification was truly Virgilian[183].

[Page 61: Johnson's version of Pope's Messiah. AETAT. 19.]

He had a love and respect for Jorden, not for his literature, but forhis worth. 'Whenever (said he) a young man becomes Jorden's pupil, hebecomes his son.'

Having given such a specimen of his poetical powers, he was asked by Mr.Jorden, to translate Pope's Messiah into Latin verse, as a Christmasexercisc. He performed it with uncommon rapidity, and in so masterly amanner, that he obtained great applause from it, which ever after kepthim high in the estimation of his College, and, indeed, of all theUniversity[184].

It is said, that Mr. Pope expressed himself concerning it in terms ofstrong approbation[185]. Dr. Taylor told me, that it was first printed forold Mr. Johnson, without the knowledge of his son, who was very angrywhen he heard of it. A Miscellany of Poems collected by a person of thename of Husbands, was published at Oxford in 1731[186]. In that MiscellanyJohnson's Translation of the Messiah appeared, with this modest mottofrom Scaliger's Poeticks. _Ex alieno ingenio Poeta, ex suo tantumversificator_.

[Page 62: Mr. Courtenays eulogy. A.D. 1728.]

I am not ignorant that critical objections have been made to this andother specimens of Johnson's Latin Poetry[187]. I acknowledge myself notcompetent to decide on a question of such extreme nicety. But I amsatisfied with the just and discriminative eulogy pronounced upon it bymy friend Mr, Courtenay.

'And with like ease his vivid lines assumeThe garb and dignity of ancient Rome.--Let college _verse-men_ trite conceits express,Trick'd out in splendid shreds of Virgil's dress;From playful Ovid cull the tinsel phrase,And vapid notions hitch in pilfer'd lays:Then with mosaick art the piece combine,And boast the glitter of each dulcet line:Johnson adventur'd boldly to transfuseHis vigorous sense into the Latian muse;Aspir'd to shine by unreflected light,And with a Roman's ardour _think_ and write.He felt the tuneful Nine his breast inspire,And, like a master, wak'd the soothing lyre:Horatian strains a grateful heart proclaim,While Sky's wild rocks resound his Thralia's name[188].Hesperia's plant, in some less skilful hands,To bloom a while, factitious heat demands:Though glowing Maro a faint warmth supplies,The sickly blossom in the hot-house dies:By Johnson's genial culture, art, and toil,Its root strikes deep, and owns the fost'ring soil;Imbibes our sun through all its swelling veins,And grows a native of Britannia's plains[189].'

[Page 63: Johnson's 'morbid melancholy'. AEtat 19.]

The 'morbid melancholy,' which was lurking in his constitution, and towhich we may ascribe those particularities, and that aversion to regularlife, which, at a very early period, marked his character, gathered suchstrength in his twentieth year, as to afflict him in a dreadful manner.While he was at Lichfield, in the college vacation of the year 1729[190],he felt himself overwhelmed with an horrible hypochondria, withperpetual irritation, fretfulness, and impatience; and with a dejection,gloom, and despair, which made existence misery[191]. From this dismalmalady he never afterwards was perfectly relieved; and all his labours,and all his enjoyments, were but temporary interruptions of its balefulinfluence[192]. How wonderful, how unsearchable are the ways of GOD!Johnson, who was blest with all the powers of genius and understandingin a degree far above the ordinary state of human nature, was at thesame time visited with a disorder so afflictive, that they who know itby dire experience, will not envy his exalted endowments. That it was,in some degree, occasioned by a defect in his nervous system, thatinexplicable part of our frame, appears highly probable. He told Mr.Paradise[193] that he was sometimes so languid and inefficient, that hecould not distinguish the hour upon the town-clock.

[Page 64: Johnson consults Dr. Swinfen. A.D. 1729.]

Johnson, upon the first violent attack of this disorder, strove toovercome it by forcible exertions[194]. He frequently walked to Birminghamand back again[195], and tried many other expedients, but all in vain. Hisexpression concerning it to me was 'I did not then know how to manageit.' His distress became so intolerable, that he applied to Dr. Swinfen,physician in Lichfield, his god-father, and put into his hands a stateof his case, written in Latin. Dr. Swinfen was so much struck with theextraordinary acuteness, research, and eloquence of this paper, that inhis zeal for his godson he shewed it to several people. His daughter,Mrs. Desmoulins, who was many years humanely supported in Dr. Johnson'shouse in London, told me, that upon his discovering that Dr. Swinfen hadcommunicated his case, he was so much offended, that he was neverafterwards fully reconciled to him. He indeed had good reason to beoffended; for though Dr. Swinfen's motive was good, he inconsideratelybetrayed a matter deeply interesting and of great delicacy, which hadbeen entrusted to him in confidence; and exposed a complaint of hisyoung friend and patient, which, in the superficial opinion of thegenerality of mankind, is attended with contempt and disgrace[196].

[Page 65: Johnson an hypochondriack. AETAT. 20.]

But let not little men triumph upon knowing that Johnson was anHYPOCHONDRIACK, was subject to what the learned, philosophical, andpious Dr. Cheyne has so well treated under the title of 'The EnglishMalady[197].' Though he suffered severely from it, he was not thereforedegraded. The powers of his great mind might be troubled, and their fullexercise suspended at times; but the mind itself was ever entire. As aproof of this, it is only necessary to consider, that, when he was atthe very worst, he composed that state of his own case, which shewed anuncommon vigour, not only of fancy and taste, but of judgement. I amaware that he himself was too ready to call such a complaint by the nameof _madness_[198]; in conformity with which notion, he has traced itsgradations, with exquisite nicety, in one of the chapters of hisRASSELAS[199]. But there is surely a clear distinction between a disorderwhich affects only the imagination and spirits, while the judgement issound, and a disorder by which the judgement itself is impaired. Thisdistinction was made to me by the late Professor Gaubius of Leyden,physician to the Prince of Orange, in a conversation which I had withhim several years ago, and he expanded it thus: 'If (said he) a mantells me that he is grievously disturbed, for that he _imagines_ he seesa ruffian coming against him with a drawn sword, though at the same timehe is _conscious_ it is a delusion, I pronounce him to have a disorderedimagination; but if a man tells me that he sees this, and inconsternation calls to me to look at it, I pronounce him to be _mad_.'

[Page 66: Johnson's dread of insanity. A.D. 1729.]

It is a common effect of low spirits or melancholy, to make those whoare afflicted with it imagine that they are actually suffering thoseevils which happen to be most strongly presented to their minds. Somehave fancied themselves to be deprived of the use of their limbs, someto labour under acute diseases, others to be in extreme poverty; when,in truth, there was not the least reality in any of the suppositions; sothat when the vapours were dispelled, they were convinced of thedelusion. To Johnson, whose supreme enjoyment was the exercise of hisreason, the disturbance or obscuration of that faculty was the evil mostto be dreaded. Insanity, therefore, was the object of his most dismalapprehension[200]; and he fancied himself seized by it, or approaching toit, at the very time when he was giving proofs of a more than ordinarysoundness and vigour of judgement. That his own diseased imaginationshould have so far deceived him, is strange; but it is stranger stillthat some of his friends should have given credit to his groundlessopinion, when they had such undoubted proofs that it was totallyfallacious; though it is by no means surprising that those who wish todepreciate him, should, since his death, have laid hold of thiscircumstance, and insisted upon it with very unfair aggravation[201].

Amidst the oppression and distraction of a disease which very few havefelt in its full extent, but many have experienced in a slighter degree,Johnson, in his writings, and in his conversation, never failed todisplay all the varieties of intellectual excellence. In his marchthrough this world to a better, his mind still appeared grand andbrilliant, and impressed all around him with the truth of Virgil's noblesentiment--

'_Igneus est ollis vigor et coelestis origo_.'[202]

[Page 67: His reluctance to go to church. AEtat 20.]

The history of his mind as to religion is an important article. I havementioned the early impressions made upon his tender imagination by hismother, who continued her pious care with assiduity, but, in hisopinion, not with judgement. 'Sunday (said he) was a heavy day to mewhen I was a boy. My mother confined me on that day, and made me read"The Whole Duty of Man," from a great part of which I could derive noinstruction. When, for instance, I had read the chapter on theft, whichfrom my infancy I had been taught was wrong, I was no more convincedthat theft was wrong than before; so there was no accession ofknowledge. A boy should be introduced to such books, by having hisattention directed to the arrangement, to the style, and otherexcellencies of composition; that the mind being thus engaged by anamusing variety of objects, may not grow weary.'

[Page 68: Law's Serious Call. A.D. 1729.]

[Page 69: Johnson grounded in religion. AEtat 20.]

He communicated to me the following particulars upon the subject of hisreligious progress. 'I fell into an inattention to religion, or anindifference about it, in my ninth year. The church at Lichfield, inwhich we had a seat, wanted reparation[203], so I was to go and find aseat in other churches; and having bad eyes, and being awkward aboutthis, I used to go and read in the fields on Sunday. This habitcontinued till my fourteenth year; and still I find a great reluctanceto go to church[204]. I then became a sort of lax _talker_ againstreligion, for I did not much _think_ against it; and this lasted till Iwent to Oxford, where it would not be _suffered_[205]. When at Oxford, Itook up 'Law's _Serious Call to a Holy Life_,'[206] 'expecting to find ita dull book (as such books generally are), and perhaps to laugh at it.But I found Law quite an overmatch for me; and this was the firstoccasion of my thinking in earnest of religion, after I became capableof rational inquiry[207].' From this time forward religion was thepredominant object of his thoughts[208]; though, with the just sentimentsof a conscientious Christian, he lamented that his practice of itsduties fell far short of what it ought to be.

This instance of a mind such as that of Johnson being first disposed, byan unexpected incident, to think with anxiety of the momentous concernsof eternity, and of 'what he should do to be saved[209],' may for ever beproduced in opposition to the superficial and sometimes profane contemptthat has been thrown upon, those occasional impressions which it iscertain many Christians have experienced; though it must be acknowledgedthat weak minds, from an erroneous supposition that no man is in a stateof grace who has not felt a particular conversion, have, in some cases,brought a degree of ridicule upon them; a ridicule of which it isinconsiderate or unfair to make a general application.

[Page 70: Johnson's studies at Oxford. A.D. 1729.]

How seriously Johnson was impressed with a sense of religion, even inthe vigour of his youth, appears from the following passage in hisminutes kept by way of diary: Sept. 7[210], 1736. I have this day enteredupon my twenty-eighth year. 'Mayest thou, O God, enable me, for JESUSCHRIST'S sake, to spend this in such a manner that I may receive comfortfrom it at the hour of death, and in the day of judgement! Amen.'

[Page 71: His rapid reading and composition. AEtat 20.]

The particular course of his reading while at Oxford, and during thetime of vacation which he passed at home, cannot be traced. Enough hasbeen said of his irregular mode of study. He told me that from hisearliest years he loved to read poetry, but hardly ever read any poem toan end; that he read Shakspeare at a period so early, that the speech ofthe ghost in Hamlet terrified him when he was alone[211]; that Horace'sOdes were the compositions in which he took most delight, and it waslong before he liked his Epistles and Satires. He told me what he read_solidly_ at Oxford was Greek; not the Grecian historians, but Homer[212]and Euripides, and now and then a little Epigram; that the study ofwhich he was the most fond was Metaphysicks, but he had not read much,even in that way. I always thought that he did himself injustice in hisaccount of what he had read, and that he must have been speaking withreference to the vast portion of study which is possible, and to which afew scholars in the whole history of literature have attained; for whenI once asked him whether a person, whose name I have now forgotten,studied hard, he answered 'No, Sir; I do not believe he studied hard. Inever knew a man who studied hard. I conclude, indeed, from the effects,that some men have studied hard, as Bentley and Clarke.' Trying him bythat criterion upon which he formed his judgement of others, we may beabsolutely certain, both from his writings and his conversation, thathis reading was very extensive. Dr. Adam Smith, than whom few werebetter judges on this subject, once observed to me that 'Johnson knewmore books than any man alive.' He had a peculiar facility in seizing atonce what was valuable in any book, without submitting to the labour ofperusing it from beginning to end[213]. He had, from the irritability ofhis constitution, at all times, an impatience and hurry when he eitherread or wrote. A certain apprehension, arising from novelty, made himwrite his first exercise at College twice over[214]; but he never tookthat trouble with any other composition; and we shall see that his mostexcellent works were struck off at a heat, with rapid exertion[215].

[Page 72: Johnson's rooms in College. A.D. 1729.]

Yet he appears, from his early notes or memorandums in my possession, tohave at various times attempted, or at least planned, a methodicalcourse of study, according to computation, of which he was all his lifefond, as it fixed his attention steadily upon something without, andprevented his mind from preying upon itself[216]. Thus I find in hishand-writing the number of lines in each of two of Euripides' Tragedies,of the Georgicks of Virgil, of the first six books of the AEneid, ofHorace's Art of Poetry, of three of the books of Ovid's Metamorphosis,of some parts of Theocritus, and of the tenth Satire of Juvenal; and atable, shewing at the rate of various numbers a day (I suppose verses tobe read), what would be, in each case, the total amount in a week,month, and year[217].

No man had a more ardent love of literature, or a higher respect for itthan Johnson. His apartment in Pembroke College was that upon the secondfloor, over the gateway. The enthusiasts of learning will evercontemplate it with veneration. One day, while he was sitting in itquite alone, Dr. Panting[218], then master of the College, whom he called'a fine Jacobite fellow,' overheard[219] him uttering this soliloquy inhis strong, emphatick voice: 'Well, I have a mind to see what is done inother places of learning. I'll go and visit the Universities abroad.I'll go to France and Italy. I'll go to Padua[220].--And I'll mind mybusiness. For an _Athenian_ blockhead is the worst of allblockheads[221].'

[Page 73: Johnson a frolicksome fellow. AEtat 20.]

Dr. Adams told me that Johnson, while he was at Pembroke College, 'wascaressed and loved by all about him, was a gay and frolicksome[222]fellow, and passed there the happiest part of his life.' But this is astriking proof of the fallacy of appearances, and how little any of usknow of the real internal state even of those whom we see mostfrequently; for the truth is, that he was then depressed by poverty, andirritated by diseasc. When I mentioned to him this account as given meby Dr. Adams, he said, 'Ah, Sir, I was mad and violent. It wasbitterness which they mistook for frolick[223]. I was miserably poor, andI thought to fight my way by my literature and my wit; so I disregardedall power and all authority[224].'

[Page 74: Dr. Adams. A.D. 1730.]

The Bishop of Dromore observes in a letter to me,

'The pleasure he took in vexing the tutors and fellows has been oftenmentioned. But I have heard him say, what ought to be recorded to thehonour of the present venerable master of that College, the ReverendWilliam Adams, D.D., who was then very young, and one of the juniorfellows; that the mild but judicious expostulations of this worthy man,whose virtue awed him, and whose learning he revered, made him reallyashamed of himself, "though I fear (said he) I was too proud to own it."

'I have heard from some of his cotemporaries that he was generally seenlounging at the College gate, with a circle of young students round him,whom he was entertaining with wit, and keeping from their studies, ifnot spiriting them up to rebellion against the College discipline, whichin his maturer years he so much extolled.'

He very early began to attempt keeping notes or memorandums, by way of adiary of his life. I find, in a parcel of loose leaves, the followingspirited resolution to contend against his natural indolence:

I have also in my possession a few leaves of another _Libellus_, orlittle book, entitled ANNALES, in which some of the early particulars ofhis history are registered in Latin.

[Page 75: A nest of singing-birds. AEtat 21.]

I do not find that he formed any close intimacies with hisfellow-collegians. But Dr. Adams told me that he contracted a love andregard for Pembroke College, which he retained to the last. A short timebefore his death he sent to that College a present of all his works, tobe deposited in their library[225]; and he had thoughts of leaving to ithis house at Lichfield; but his friends who were about him very properlydissuaded him from it, and he bequeathed it to some poor relations[226].He took a pleasure in boasting of the many eminent men who had beeneducated at Pembroke. In this list are found the names of Mr. Hawkinsthe Poetry Professor[227], Mr. Shenstone, Sir William Blackstone, andothers[228]; not forgetting the celebrated popular preacher, Mr. GeorgeWhitefield, of whom, though Dr. Johnson did not think very highly[229], itmust be acknowledged that his eloquence was powerful, his views piousand charitable, his assiduity almost incredible; and, that since hisdeath, the integrity of his character has been fully vindicated. Beinghimself a poet, Johnson was peculiarly happy in mentioning how many ofthe sons of Pembroke were poets; adding, with a smile of sportivetriumph, 'Sir, we are a nest of singing birds[230].'

[Page 76: Dr. Taylor at Christ Church. A.D. 1730.]

[Page 77: Johnson's worn-out shoes. AEtat 21.]

He was not, however, blind to what he thought the defects of his ownCollege; and I have, from the information of Dr. Taylor, a very stronginstance of that rigid honesty which he ever inflexibly preserved.Taylor had obtained his father's consent to be entered of Pembroke, thathe might be with his schoolfellow Johnson, with whom, though some yearsolder than himself, he was very intimate. This would have been a greatcomfort to Johnson. But he fairly told Taylor that he could not, inconscience, suffer him to enter where he knew he could not have an abletutor. He then made inquiry all round the University, and having foundthat Mr. Bateman, of Christ Church, was the tutor of highest reputation,Taylor was entered of that College[231]. Mr. Bateman's lectures were soexcellent, that Johnson used to come and get them at second-hand fromTaylor, till his poverty being so extreme that his shoes were worn out,and his feet appeared through them, he saw that this humiliatingcircumstance was perceived by the Christ Church men, and he came nomore[232]. He was too proud to accept of money, and somebody having set apair of new shoes at his door, he threw them away with indignation[233].How must we feel when we read such an anecdote of Samuel Johnson!

His spirited refusal of an eleemosynary supply of shoes, arose, nodoubt, from a proper pride. But, considering his ascetick disposition attimes, as acknowledged by himself in his 'Meditations,' and theexaggeration with which some have treated the peculiarities of hischaracter, I should not wonder to hear it ascribed to a principle ofsuperstitious mortification; as we are told by Tursellinus, in his Lifeof St. Ignatius Loyola, that this intrepid founder of the order ofJesuits, when he arrived at Goa, after having made a severe pilgrimagethrough the Eastern deserts persisted in wearing his miserable shatteredshoes, and when new ones were offered him rejected them as an unsuitableindulgence.

[Page 78: Johnson leaves Oxford. A.D. 1731.]

The _res angusta domi_[234] prevented him from having the advantage of acomplete academical education[235]. The friend to whom he had trusted forsupport had deceived him. His debts in College, though not great, wereincreasing[236]; and his scanty remittances from Lichfield, which had allalong been made with great difficulty, could be supplied no longer, hisfather having fallen into a state of insolvency. Compelled, therefore,by irresistible necessity, he left the College in autumn, 1731, withouta degree, having been a member of it little more than three years[237].

[Page 79: His destitute state. AEtat 22.]

Dr. Adams, the worthy and respectable master of Pembroke College, hasgenerally had the reputation of being Johnson's tutor. The fact,however, is, that in 1731 Mr. Jorden quitted the College, and his pupilswere transferred to Dr. Adams; so that had Johnson returned, Dr. Adams_would have been his tutor_. It is to be wished, that this connectionhad taken place. His equal temper, mild disposition, and politeness ofmanners, might have insensibly softened the harshness of Johnson, andinfused into him those more delicate charities, those _petites morales_,in which, it must be confessed, our great moralist was more deficientthan his best friends could fully justify. Dr. Adams paid Johnson thishigh compliment. He said to me at Oxford, in 1776, 'I was his nominaltutor[238]; but he was above my mark.' When I repeated it to Johnson, hiseyes flashed with grateful satisfaction, and he exclaimed, 'That wasliberal and noble.'

[Page 80: Michael Johnson's death. A.D. 1731.]

And now (I had almost said _poor_) Samuel Johnson returned to his nativecity, destitute, and not knowing how he should gain even a decentlivelihood. His father's misfortunes in trade rendered him unable tosupport his son[239]; and for some time there appeared no means by whichhe could maintain himself. In the December of this year his father died.

The state of poverty in which he died, appears from a note in one ofJohnson's little diaries of the following year, which strongly displayshis spirit and virtuous dignity of mind.

'1732, _Julii_ 15. _Undecim aureos deposui, quo die quicquid ante matrisfunus (quod serum sit precor) de paternis bonis sperari licet, vigintiscilicet libras, accepi. Usque adeo mihi fortuna fingenda est. Interea,ne paupertate vires animi languescant, nee in flagilia egestas abigat,cavendum_.--I layed by eleven guineas on this day, when I receivedtwenty pounds, being all that I have reason to hope for out of myfather's effects, previous to the death of my mother; an event which Ipray GOD may be very remote. I now therefore see that I must make my ownfortune. Meanwhile, let me take care that the powers of my mind may notbe debilitated by poverty, and that indigence do not force me into anycriminal act.'

Johnson was so far fortunate, that the respectable character of hisparents, and his own merit, had, from his earliest years, secured him akind reception in the best families at Lichfield. Among these I canmention Mr. Howard[240], Dr. Swinfen, Mr. Simpson, Mr. Levett[241], CaptainGarrick, father of the great ornament of the British stage; but aboveall, Mr. Gilbert Walmsley[242], Register of the Prerogative Court ofLichfield, whose character, long after his decease, Dr. Johnson has, inhis Life of Edmund Smith[243], thus drawn in the glowing colours ofgratitude:

[Page 81: Gilbert Walmsley. AEtat 22.]

'Of Gilbert Walmsley[244], thus presented to my mind, let me indulgemyself in the remembrance. I knew him very early; he was one of thefirst friends that literature procured me, and I hope that, at least, mygratitude made me worthy of his notice.

'He was of an advanced age, and I was only not a boy, yet he neverreceived my notions with contempt. He was a whig, with all the virulenceand malevolence of his party; yet difference of opinion did not keep usapart. I honoured him and he endured me.

'He had mingled with the gay world without exemption from its vices orits follies; but had never neglected the cultivation of his mind. Hisbelief of revelation was unshaken; his learning preserved hisprinciples; he grew first regular, and then pious.

'His studies had been so various, that I am not able to name a man ofequal knowledge. His acquaintance with books was great, and what he didnot immediately know, he could, at least, tell where to find. Such washis amplitude of learning, and such his copiousness of communication,that it may be doubted whether a day now passes, in which I have notsome advantage from his friendship.

'At this man's table I enjoyed many cheerful and instructive hours, withcompanions, such as are not often found--with one who has lengthened,and one who has gladdened life; with Dr. James[245], whose skill inphysick will be long remembered; and with David Garrick, whom I hoped tohave gratified with this character of our common friend. But what arethe hopes of man! I am disappointed by that stroke of death, which haseclipsed the gaiety of nations, and impoverished the publick stock ofharmless pleasure[246].'

[Page 82: Lichfield society. A.D. 1732.]

In these families he passed much time in his early years. In most ofthem, he was in the company of ladies, particularly at Mr. Walmsley's,whose wife and sisters-in-law, of the name of Aston, and daughters of aBaronet, were remarkable for good breeding; so that the notion which hasbeen industriously circulated and believed, that he never was in goodcompany till late in life, and, consequently had been confirmed incoarse and ferocious manners by long habits, is wholly withoutfoundation. Some of the ladies have assured me, they recollected himwell when a young man, as distinguished for his complaisance.

And that this politeness was not merely occasional and temporary, orconfined to the circles of Lichfield, is ascertained by the testimony ofa lady, who, in a paper with which I have been favoured by a daughter ofhis intimate friend and physician, Dr. Lawrence, thus describes Dr.Johnson some years afterwards:

'As the particulars of the former part of Dr. Johnson's life do not seemto be very accurately known, a lady hopes that the following informationmay not be unacceptable.

[Page 83: Molly Aston. AEtat 23.]

'She remembers Dr. Johnson on a visit to Dr. Taylor, at Ashbourn, sometime between the end of the year 37, and the middle of the year 40; sherather thinks it to have been after he and his wife were removed toLondon[247]. During his stay at Ashbourn, he made frequent visits to Mr.Meynell[248], at Bradley, where his company was much desired by the ladiesof the family, who were, perhaps, in point of elegance andaccomplishments, inferiour to few of those with whom he was afterwardsacquainted. Mr. Meynell's eldest daughter was afterwards married to Mr.Fitzherbert[249], father to Mr. Alleyne Fitzherbert, lately minister tothe court of Russia. Of her, Dr. Johnson said, in Dr. Lawrence's study,that she had the best understanding he ever met with in any humanbeing[250]. At Mr. Meynell's he also commenced that friendship with Mrs.Hill Boothby[251], sister to the present Sir Brook Boothby, whichcontinued till her death. _The young woman whom he used to call MollyAston_[252], was sister to Sir Thomas Aston, and daughter to a Baronet;she was also sister to the wife of his friend Mr. Gilbert Walmsley[253].Besides his intimacy with the above-mentioned persons, who were surelypeople of rank and education, while he was yet at Lichfield he used tobe frequently at the house of Dr. Swinfen, a gentleman of a very ancientfamily in Staffordshire, from which, after the death of his elderbrother, he inherited a good estate. He was, besides, a physician ofvery extensive practice; but for want of due attention to the managementof his domestick concerns, left a very large family in indigence. One ofhis daughters, Mrs. Desmoulins, afterwards found an asylum in the houseof her old friend, whose doors were always open to the unfortunate, andwho well observed the precept of the Gospel, for he "was kind to theunthankful and to the evil[254]."'

[Page 84: Johnson an usher. A.D. 1732.]

In the forlorn state of his circumstances, he accepted of an offer to beemployed as usher in the school of Market-Bosworth, in Leicestershire,to which it appears, from one of his little fragments of a diary, thathe went on foot, on the 16th of July.--'_Julii 16. Bosvortiam pedespetii_[255].' But it is not true, as has been erroneously related, that hewas assistant to the famous Anthony Blackwall, whose merit has beenhonoured by the testimony of Bishop Hurd[256], who was his scholar; forMr. Blackwall died on the 8th of April, 1730[257], more than a year beforeJohnson left the University[258].

This employment was very irksome to him in every respect, and hecomplained grievously of it in his letters to his friend Mr. Hector, whowas now settled as a surgeon at Birmingham. The letters are lost; butMr. Hector recollects his writing 'that the poet had described the dullsameness of his existence in these words, "_Vitam continet una dies_"(one day contains the whole of my life); that it was unvaried as thenote of the cuckow; and that he did not know whether it was moredisagreeable for him to teach, or the boys to learn, the grammar rules.'His general aversion to this painful drudgery was greatly enhanced by adisagreement between him and Sir Wolstan Dixey, the patron of theschool, in whose house, I have been told, he officiated as a kind ofdomestick chaplain, so far, at least, as to say grace at table, but wastreated with what he represented as intolerable harshness[259]; and, aftersuffering for a few months such complicated misery[260], he relinquished asituation which all his life afterwards he recollected with thestrongest aversion, and even a degree of horrour[261]. But it is probablethat at this period, whatever uneasiness he may have endured, he laidthe foundation of much future eminence by application to his studies.

[Page 85: His life in Birmingham. AEtat 23.]

Being now again totally unoccupied, he was invited by Mr. Hector to passsome time with him at Birmingham, as his guest, at the house of Mr.Warren, with whom Mr. Hector lodged and boarded. Mr. Warren was thefirst established bookseller in Birmingham, and was very attentive toJohnson, who he soon found could be of much service to him in his trade,by his knowledge of literature; and he even obtained the assistance ofhis pen in furnishing some numbers of a periodical Essay printed in thenews-paper, of which Warren was proprietor[262]. After very diligentinquiry, I have not been able to recover those early specimens of thatparticular mode of writing by which Johnson afterwards so greatlydistinguished himself.

[Page 86: Lobo's Voyage to Abyssinia. A.D. 1733.]

He continued to live as Mr. Hector's guest for about six months, andthen hired lodgings in another part of the town[263], finding himself aswell situated at Birmingham[264] as he supposed he could be any where,while he had no settled plan of life, and very scanty means ofsubsistence. He made some valuable acquaintances there, amongst whomwere Mr. Porter, a mercer, whose widow he afterwards married, and Mr.Taylor[265], who by his ingenuity in mechanical inventions, and hissuccess in trade, acquired an immense fortune. But the comfort of beingnear Mr. Hector, his old school-fellow and intimate friend, wasJohnson's chief inducement to continue here.

In what manner he employed his pen at this period, or whether he derivedfrom it any pecuniary advantage, I have not been able to ascertain. Heprobably got a little money from Mr. Warren; and we are certain, that heexecuted here one piece of literary labour, of which Mr. Hector hasfavoured me with a minute account. Having mentioned that he had read atPembroke College a Voyage to Abyssinia, by Lobo, a Portuguese Jesuit,and that he thought an abridgment and translation of it from the Frenchinto English might be an useful and profitable publication, Mr. Warrenand Mr. Hector joined in urging him to undertake it. He accordinglyagreed; and the book not being to be found in Birmingham, he borrowed itof Pembroke College. A part of the work being very soon done, oneOsborn, who was Mr. Warren's printer, was set to work with what wasready, and Johnson engaged to supply the press with copy as it should bewanted; but his constitutional indolence soon prevailed, and the workwas at a stand. Mr. Hector, who knew that a motive of humanity would bethe most prevailing argument with his friend, went to Johnson, andrepresented to him, that the printer could have no other employment tillthis undertaking was finished, and that the poor man and his family weresuffering. Johnson upon this exerted the powers of his mind, though hisbody was relaxed. He lay in bed with the book, which was a quarto,before him, and dictated while Hector wrote. Mr. Hector carried thesheets to the press, and corrected almost all the proof sheets, very fewof which were even seen by Johnson. In this manner, with the aid of Mr.Hector's active friendship, the book was completed, and was published in1735, with LONDON upon the title-page, though it was in reality printedat Birmingham, a device too common with provincial publishers. For thiswork he had from Mr. Warren only the sum of five guineas[266].

This being the first prose work of Johnson, it is a curious object ofinquiry how much may be traced in it of that style which marks hissubsequent writings with such peculiar excellence; with so happy anunion of force, vivacity, and perspicuity. I have perused the book withthis view, and have found that here, as I believe in every othertranslation, there is in the work itself no vestige of the translator'sown style; for the language of translation being adapted to the thoughtsof another person, insensibly follows their cast, and, as it were, runsinto a mould that is ready prepared[267].

Thus, for instance, taking the first sentence that occurs at the openingof the book, p. 4.

'I lived here above a year, and completed my studies in divinity; inwhich time some letters were received from the fathers of Ethiopia, withan account that Sultan Segned[268], Emperour of Abyssinia, was convertedto the church of Rome; that many of his subjects had followed hisexample, and that there was a great want of missionaries to improvethese prosperous beginnings. Every body was very desirous of secondingthe zeal of our fathers, and of sending them the assistance theyrequested; to which we were the more encouraged, because the Emperour'sletter informed our Provincial, that we might easily enter his dominionsby the way of Dancala; but, unhappily, the secretary wrote Geila[269] forDancala, which cost two of our fathers their lives.'

Every one acquainted with Johnson's manner will be sensible that thereis nothing of it here; but that this sentence might have been composedby any other man.

But, in the Preface, the Johnsonian style begins to appear; and thoughuse had not yet taught his wing a permanent and equable flight, thereare parts of it which exhibit his best manner in full vigour. I had oncethe pleasure of examining it with Mr. Edmund Burke, who confirmed me inthis opinion, by his superiour critical sagacity, and was, I remember,much delighted with the following specimen:

'The Portuguese traveller, contrary to the general vein of hiscountrymen, has amused his reader with no romantick absurdity, orincredible fictions; whatever he relates, whether true or not, is atleast probable; and he who tells nothing exceeding the bounds ofprobability, has a right to demand that they should believe him whocannot contradict him.

'He appears, by his modest and unaffected narration, to have describedthings as he saw them, to have copied nature from the life, and to haveconsulted his senses, not his imagination. He meets with no basilisksthat destroy with their eyes, his crocodiles devour their prey withouttears, and his cataracts fall from the rocks without deafening theneighbouring inhabitants[270].

'The reader will here find no regions cursed with irremediablebarrenness, or blessed with spontaneous fecundity; no perpetual gloom,or unceasing sunshine; nor are the nations here described either devoidof all sense of humanity, or consummate in all private or socialvirtues. Here are no Hottentots without religious polity or articulatelanguage[271]; no Chinese perfectly polite, and completely skilled in allsciences; he will discover, what will always be discovered by a diligentand impartial enquirer, that wherever human nature is to be found, thereis a mixture of vice and virtue, a contest of passion and reason; andthat the Creator doth not appear partial in his distributions, but hasbalanced, in most countries, their particular inconveniencies byparticular favours.'

Here we have an early example of that brilliant and energetickexpression, which, upon innumerable occasions in his subsequent life,justly impressed the world with the highest admiration.

Nor can any one, conversant with the writings of Johnson, fail todiscern his hand in this passage of the Dedication to John Warren, Esq.of Pembrokeshire, though it is ascribed to Warren the bookseller:

'A generous and elevated mind is distinguished by nothing more certainlythan an eminent degree of curiosity[272]; nor is that curiosity ever moreagreeably or usefully employed, than in examining the laws and customsof foreign nations. I hope, therefore, the present I now presume tomake, will not be thought improper; which, however, it is not mybusiness as a dedicator to commend, nor as a bookseller to depreciate.'

It is reasonable to suppose, that his having been thus accidentally ledto a particular study of the history and manners of Abyssinia, was theremote occasion of his writing, many years afterwards, his admirablephilosophical tale[273], the principal scene of which is laid in thatcountry.

[Page 90: Proposals to print Politian. A.D. 1734.]

Johnson returned to Lichfield early in 1734, and in August[274] that yearhe made an attempt to procure some little subsistence by his pen; for hepublished proposals for printing by subscription the Latin Poems ofPolitian[275]: '_Angeli Politiani Poemata Latina, quibus, Notas cumhistoria Latinae poeseos, a Petrarchae aevo ad Politiani tempora deducta,et vita Politiani fusius quam antehac enarrata, addidit_ SAM.JOHNSON[276].'

It appears that his brother Nathanael[277] had taken up his father'strade; for it is mentioned that 'subscriptions are taken in by theEditor, or N. Johnson, bookseller, of Lichfield.' Notwithstanding themerit of Johnson, and the cheap price at which this book was offered,there were not subscribers enough to insure a sufficient sale; so thework never appeared, and probably, never was executed.

[Page 91: First letter to Edward Cave. AEtat 25.]

We find him again this year at Birmingham, and there is preserved thefollowing letter from him to Mr. Edward Cave[278], the original compilerand editor of the _Gentleman's Magazine_:

TO MR. CAVE.

_Nov_. 25, 1734.

'Sir,

'As you appear no less sensible than your readers of the defects of yourpoetical article, you will not be displeased, if, in order to theimprovement of it, I communicate to you the sentiments of a person, whowill undertake, on reasonable terms, sometimes to fill a column.

'His opinion is, that the publick would not give you a bad reception,if, beside the current wit of the month, which a critical examinationwould generally reduce to a narrow compass, you admitted not only poems,inscriptions, &c. never printed before, which he will sometimes supplyyou with; but likewise short literary dissertations in Latin or English,critical remarks on authours ancient or modern, forgotten poems thatdeserve revival, or loose pieces, like Floyer's[279], worth preserving. Bythis method, your literary article, for so it might be called, will, hethinks, be better recommended to the publick than by low jests, awkwardbuffoonery, or the dull scurrilities of either party.

'If such a correspondence will be agreeable to you, be pleased to informme in two posts, what the conditions are on which you shall expect it.Your late offer[280] gives me no reason to distrust your generosity. Ifyou engage in any literary projects besides this paper, I have otherdesigns to impart, if I could be secure from having others reap theadvantage of what I should hint.

[Page 92: Verses on a sprig of myrtle. A.D. 1734.]

'Your letter by being directed to _S. Smith_, to be left at the Castlein[281] Birmingham, Warwickshire, will reach

'Your humble servant.'

Mr. Cave has put a note on this letter, 'Answered Dec. 2.' But whetherany thing was done in consequence of it we are not informed.

Johnson had, from his early youth, been sensible to the influence offemale charms. When at Stourbridge school, he was much enamoured ofOlivia Lloyd, a young quaker, to whom he wrote a copy of verses, which Ihave not been able to recover; but with what facility and elegance hecould warble the amorous lay, will appear from the following lines whichhe wrote for his friend Mr. Edmund Hector.

[Page 93: Boswell's controversy with Miss Seward. AEtat 25.]

VERSES _to a_ LADY, _on receiving from her a_ SPRIG of MYRTLE.

'What hopes, what terrours does thy gift create,Ambiguous emblem of uncertain fate:The myrtle, ensign of supreme command,Consign'd by Venus to Melissa's hand;Not less capricious than a reigning fair,Now grants, and now rejects a lover's prayer.In myrtle shades oft sings the happy swain,In myrtle shades despairing ghosts complain;The myrtle crowns the happy lovers' heads,The unhappy lovers' grave the myrtle spreads:O then the meaning of thy gift impart,And ease the throbbings of an anxious heart!Soon must this bough, as you shall fix his doom,Adorn Philander's head, or grace his tomb[282].'

[Page 94: Johnson's personal appearance. A.D. 1734.]

His juvenile attachments to the fair sex were, however, very transient;and it is certain that he formed no criminal connection whatsoever. Mr.Hector, who lived with him in his younger days in the utmost intimacyand social freedom, has assured me, that even at that ardent season hisconduct was strictly virtuous in that respect[283]; and that though heloved to exhilarate himself with wine, he never knew him intoxicated butonce[284].

[Page 95: Mrs. Porter. AEtat 25.]

In a man whom religious education has secured from licentiousindulgences, the passion of love, when once it has seized him, isexceedingly strong; being unimpaired by dissipation, and totallyconcentrated in one object. This was experienced by Johnson, when hebecame the fervent admirer of Mrs. Porter, after her first husband'sdeath[285]. Miss Porter told me, that when he was first introduced to hermother, his appearance was very forbidding: he was then lean and lank,so that his immense structure of bones was hideously striking to theeye, and the scars of the scrophula were deeply visible[286]. He also worehis hair[287], which was straight and stiff, and separated behind: and heoften had, seemingly, convulsive starts and odd gesticulations, whichtended to excite at once surprize and ridicule[288]. Mrs. Porter was somuch engaged by his conversation that she overlooked all these externaldisadvantages, and said to her daughter, 'this is the most sensible manthat I ever saw in my life.'

Though Mrs. Porter was double the age of Johnson[289], and her person andmanner, as described to me by the late Mr. Garrick, were by no meanspleasing to others, she must have had a superiority of understanding andtalents, as she certainly inspired him with a more than ordinarypassion; and she having signified her willingness to accept of his hand,he went to Lichfield to ask his mother's consent to the marriage, whichhe could not but be conscious was a very imprudent scheme, both onaccount of their disparity of years, and her want of fortune[290]. ButMrs. Johnson knew too well the ardour of her son's temper, and was tootender a parent to oppose his inclinations.

[Page 96: Johnson's marriage. A.D. 1736.]

I know not for what reason the marriage ceremony was not performed atBirmingham; but a resolution was taken that it should be at Derby, forwhich place the bride and bridegroom set out on horseback, I suppose invery good humour. But though Mr. Topham Beauclerk used archly to mentionJohnson's having told him, with much gravity, 'Sir, it was a lovemarriage on both sides,' I have had from my illustrious friend thefollowing curious account of their journey to church upon the nuptialmorn:

9th July:--'Sir, she had read the old romances, and had got into herhead the fantastical notion that a woman of spirit should use her loverlike a dog. So, Sir, at first she told me that I rode too fast, and shecould not keep up with me; and, when I rode a little slower, she passedme, and complained that I lagged behind. I was not to be made the slaveof caprice; and I resolved to begin as I meant to end. I thereforepushed on briskly, till I was fairly out of her sight. The road laybetween two hedges, so I was sure she could not miss it; and I contrivedthat she should soon come up with me. When she did, I observed her to bein tears.'

This, it must be allowed, was a singular beginning of connubialfelicity; but there is no doubt that Johnson, though he thus shewed amanly firmness, proved a most affectionate and indulgent husband to thelast moment of Mrs. Johnson's life: and in his _Prayers andMeditations_, we find very remarkable evidence that his regard andfondness for her never ceased, even after her death.

[Page 97: His School at Edial. AEtat 27.]

He now set up a private academy[291], for which purpose he hired a largehouse, well situated near his native city. In the _Gentleman's Magazine_for 1736, there is the following advertisement:

'At Edial, near Lichfield[292], in Staffordshire, young gentlemen areboarded and taught the Latin and Greek languages, by SAMUEL JOHNSON.'

But the only pupils that were put under his care were the celebratedDavid Garrick and his brother George, and a Mr. Offely, a younggentleman of good fortune who died early. As yet, his name had nothingof that celebrity which afterwards commanded the highest attention andrespect of mankind. Had such an advertisement appeared after thepublication of his _London_, or his _Rambler_, or his _Dictionary_, howwould it have burst upon the world! with what eagerness would the greatand the wealthy have embraced an opportunity of putting their sons underthe learned tuition of SAMUEL JOHNSON. The truth, however, is, that hewas not so well qualified for being a teacher of elements, and aconductor in learning by regular gradations, as men of inferiour powersof mind. His own acquisitions had been made by fits and starts, byviolent irruptions into the regions of knowledge; and it could not beexpected that his impatience would be subdued, and his impetuosityrestrained, so as to fit him for a quiet guide to novices. The art ofcommunicating instruction, of whatever kind, is much to be valued; and Ihave ever thought that those who devote themselves to this employment,and do their duty with diligence and success, are entitled to very highrespect from the community, as Johnson himself often maintained[293]. YetI am of opinion that the greatest abilities are not only not requiredfor this office, but render a man less fit for it.

[Page 98: Garrick Johnson's pupil. A.D. 1736.]

While we acknowledge the justness of Thomson's beautiful remark,

'Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,And teach[294] the young idea how to shoot!'

we must consider that this delight is perceptible only by 'a mind atease,' a mind at once calm and clear; but that a mind gloomy andimpetuous like that of Johnson, cannot be fixed for any length of timein minute attention, and must be so frequently irritated by unavoidableslowness and errour in the advances of scholars, as to perform the duty,with little pleasure to the teacher, and no great advantage to thepupils[295]. Good temper is a most essential requisite in a Preceptor.Horace paints the character as _bland_:

Johnson was not more satisfied with his situation as the master of anacademy, than with that of the usher of a school; we need not wonder,therefore, that he did not keep his academy above a year and a half.From Mr. Garrick's account he did not appear to have been profoundlyreverenced by his pupils. His oddities of manner, and uncouthgesticulations, could not but be the subject of merriment to them; and,in particular, the young rogues used to listen at the door of hisbed-chamber, and peep through the key-hole, that they might turn intoridicule his tumultuous and awkward fondness for Mrs. Johnson, whom heused to name by the familiar appellation of _Tetty_ or _Tetsey_, which,like _Betty_ or _Betsey_, is provincially used as a contraction for_Elisabeth_, her Christian name, but which to us seems ludicrous, whenapplied to a woman of her age and appearance. Mr. Garrick described herto me as very fat, with a bosom of more than ordinary protuberance, withswelled cheeks of a florid red, produced by thick painting, andincreased by the liberal use of cordials; flaring and fantastick in herdress, and affected both in her speech and her general behaviour. I haveseen Garrick exhibit her, by his exquisite talent of mimickry, so as toexcite the heartiest bursts of laughter; but he, probably, as is thecase in all such representations, considerably aggravated thepicture[297].

That Johnson well knew the most proper course to be pursued in theinstruction of youth, is authentically ascertained by the followingpaper[298] in his own hand-writing, given about this period to a relation,and now in the possession of Mr. John Nichols:

'SCHEME _for the_ CLASSES _of a_ GRAMMAR SCHOOL.

'When the introduction, or formation of nouns and verbs, is perfectlymastered, let them learn:

'Corderius by Mr. Clarke, beginning at the same time to translate out ofthe introduction, that by this means they may learn the syntax. Then letthem proceed to:

'N.B. The first class gets for their part every morning the rules whichthey have learned before, and in the afternoon learns the Latin rules ofthe nouns and verbs.

[Page 100: A scheme of study. A.D. 1736.]

'They are examined in the rules which they have learned every Thursdayand Saturday.

'The second class does the same whilst they are in Eutropius; afterwardstheir part is in the irregular nouns and verbs, and in the rules formaking and scanning verses. They are examined as the first.

'Class III. Ovid's Metamorphoses in the morning, and Caesar'sCommentaries in the afternoon.

'Practise in the Latin rules till they are perfect in them; afterwardsin Mr. Leeds's Greek Grammar. Examined as before.

'Afterwards they proceed to Virgil, beginning at the same time to writethemes and verses, and to learn Greek; from thence passing on to Horace,&c. as shall seem most proper.

'I know not well what books to direct you to, because you have notinformed me what study you will apply yourself to. I believe it will bemost for your advantage to apply yourself wholly to the languages, tillyou go to the University. The Greek authours I think it best for you toread are these:

'Thus you will be tolerably skilled in all the dialects, beginning withthe Attick, to which the rest must be referred.

'In the study of Latin, it is proper not to read the latter authours,till you are well versed in those of the purest ages; as Terence, Tully,Caesar, Sallust, Nepos, Velleius Paterculus, Virgil, Horace, Phaedrus.

'The greatest and most necessary task still remains, to attain a habitof expression, without which knowledge is of little usc. This isnecessary in Latin, and more necessary in English; and can only beacquired by a daily imitation of the best and correctest authours.

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

While Johnson kept his academy, there can be no doubt that he wasinsensibly furnishing his mind with various knowledge; but I have notdiscovered that he wrote any thing except a great part of his tragedy of_Irene_. Mr. Peter Garrick, the elder brother of David, told me that heremembered Johnson's borrowing the _Turkish History_[299] of him, in orderto form his play from it. When he had finished some part of it, he readwhat he had done to Mr. Walmsley, who objected to his having alreadybrought his heroine into great distress, and asked him, 'how can youpossibly contrive to plunge her into deeper calamity?' Johnson, in slyallusion to the supposed oppressive proceedings of the court of whichMr. Walmsley was register, replied, 'Sir, I can put her into theSpiritual Court!'

[Page 101: Johnson tries his fortune in London. AEtat 27.]

Mr. Walmsley, however, was well pleased with this proof of Johnson'sabilities as a dramatick writer, and advised him to finish the tragedy,and produce it on the stage.

Johnson now thought of trying his fortune in London, the great field ofgenius and exertion, where talents of every kind have the fullest scope,and the highest encouragement. It is a memorable circumstance that hispupil David Garrick went thither at the same time[300], with intention tocomplete his education, and follow the profession of the law, from whichhe was soon diverted by his decided preference for the stage.

This joint expedition of those two eminent men to the metropolis, wasmany years afterwards noticed in an allegorical poem on Shakspeare'sMulberry Tree, by Mr. Lovibond, the ingenious authour of _The Tears ofOld-May-day_[301].

They were recommended to Mr. Colson[302], an eminent mathematician andmaster of an academy, by the following letter from Mr. Walmsley:

[Page 102: Mr. Walmsley's Letter. A.D. 1737.]

'To THE REVEREND MR. COLSON.

'Lichfield, March 2, 1737.

'DEAR SIR,

'I had the favour of yours, and am extremely obliged to you; but Icannot say I had a greater affection for you upon it than I had before,being long since so much endeared to you, as well by an earlyfriendship, as by your many excellent and valuable qualifications; and,had I a son of my own, it would be my ambition, instead of sending himto the University, to dispose of him as this young gentleman is.

'He, and another neighbour of mine, one Mr. Samuel Johnson, set out thismorning for London together. Davy Garrick is to be with you early thenext week, and Mr. Johnson to try his fate with a tragedy, and to see toget himself employed in some translation, either from the Latin or theFrench. Johnson is a very good scholar and poet, and I have great hopeswill turn out a fine tragedy-writer. If it should any way lie in yourway, doubt[303] not but you would be ready to recommend and assist yourcountryman.

'G. WALMSLEY.'

[Page 103: Like in London. AEtat 28.]

How he employed himself upon his first coming to London is notparticularly known[304]. I never heard that he found any protection orencouragement by the means of Mr. Colson, to whose academy David Garrickwent. Mrs. Lucy Porter told me, that Mr. Walmsley gave him a letter ofintroduction to Lintot[305] his bookseller, and that Johnson wrote somethings for him; but I imagine this to be a mistake, for I havediscovered no trace of it, and I am pretty sure he told me that Mr. Cavewas the first publisher by whom his pen was engaged in London.

He had a little money when he came to town, and he knew how he couldlive in the cheapest manner. His first lodgings were at the house of Mr.Norris, a staymaker, in Exeter-street, adjoining Catharine-street, inthe Strand. 'I dined (said he) very well for eight-pence, with very goodcompany, at the Pine Apple in New-street, just by. Several of them hadtravelled. They expected to meet every day; but did not know oneanother's names. It used to cost the rest a shilling, for they drankwine; but I had a cut of meat for six-pence, and bread for a penny, andgave the waiter a penny; so that I was quite well served, nay, betterthan the rest, for they gave the waiter nothing[306].'

[Page 104: Abstinence from wine. A.D. 1737.]

He at this time, I believe, abstained entirely from fermented liquors: apractice to which he rigidly conformed for many years together, atdifferent periods of his life[307].

[Page 105: An Irish Ofellus. AEtat 28.]

His Ofellus in the _Art of Living in London_, I have heard him relate,was an Irish painter, whom he knew at Birmingham, and who had practisedhis own precepts of oeconomy for several years in the Britishcapital[308]. He assured Johnson, who, I suppose, was then meditating totry his fortune in London, but was apprehensive of the expence, 'thatthirty pounds a year was enough to enable a man to live there withoutbeing contemptible. He allowed ten pounds for clothes and linen. He saida man might live in a garret at eighteen-pence a week; few people wouldinquire where he lodged; and if they did, it was easy to say, 'Sir, I amto be found at such a place.' By spending three-pence in a coffee-house,he might be for some hours every day in very good company; he might dinefor six-pence, breakfast on bread and milk for a penny, and do withoutsupper. On _clean-shirt-day_ he went abroad, and paid visits.' I haveheard him more than once talk of this frugal friend, whom he recollectedwith esteem and kindness, and did not like to have one smile at therecital. 'This man (said he, gravely) was a very sensible man, whoperfectly understood common affairs: a man of a great deal of knowledgeof the world, fresh from life, not strained through books[309]. Heborrowed a horse and ten pounds at Birmingham. Finding himself master ofso much money, he set off for West Chester[310], in order to get toIreland. He returned the horse, and probably the ten pounds too, afterhe got home.'

[Page 106: Mr. Henry Hervey. A.D. 1737.]

Considering Johnson's narrow circumstances in the early part of hislife, and particularly at the interesting aera of his launching into theocean of London, it is not to be wondered at, that an actual instance,proved by experience of the possibility of enjoying the intellectualluxury of social life, upon a very small income, should deeply engagehis attention, and be ever recollected by him as a circumstance of muchimportance. He amused himself, I remember, by computing how much moreexpence was absolutely necessary to live upon the same scale with thatwhich his friend described, when the value of money was diminished bythe progress of commerce. It maybe estimated that double the money mightnow with difficulty be sufficient.

Amidst this cold obscurity, there was one brilliant circumstance tocheer him; he was well acquainted with Mr. Henry Hervey[311], one of thebranches of the noble family of that name, who had been quartered atLichfield as an officer of the army, and had at this time a house inLondon, where Johnson was frequently entertained, and had an opportunityof meeting genteel company. Not very long before his death, he mentionedthis, among other particulars of his life, which he was kindlycommunicating to me; and he described this early friend, 'Harry Hervey,'thus: 'He was a vicious man, but very kind to me. If you call a dogHERVEY, I shall love him.'

He told me he had now written only three acts of his _Irene_, and thathe retired for some time to lodgings at Greenwich, where he proceeded init somewhat further, and used to compose, walking in the Park[312]; butdid not stay long enough at that place to finish it.

At this period we find the following letter from him to Mr. Edward Cave,which, as a link in the chain of his literary history, it is proper toinsert:

[Page 107: Johnson returns to Lichfield. AEtat 28.]

'To MR. CAVE.

'Greenwich, next door to the Golden Heart,'Church-street, July 12, 1737.

'SIR,

'Having observed in your papers very uncommon offers of encouragement tomen of letters, I have chosen, being a stranger in London, tocommunicate to you the following design, which, I hope, if you join init, will be of advantage to both of us.

'The History of the Council of Trent having been lately translated intoFrench, and published with large Notes by Dr. Le Courayer[313], thereputation of that book is so much revived in England, that, it ispresumed, a new translation of it from the Italian, together with LeCourayer's Notes from the French, could not fail of a favourablereception.

'If it be answered, that the History is already in English, it must beremembered, that there was the same objection against Le Courayer'sundertaking, with this disadvantage, that the French had a version byone of their best translators, whereas you cannot read three pages ofthe English History without discovering that the style is capable ofgreat improvements; but whether those improvements are to be expectedfrom the attempt, you must judge from the specimen, which, if youapprove the proposal, I shall submit to your examination.

'Suppose the merit of the versions equal, we may hope that the additionof the Notes will turn the balance in our favour, considering thereputation of the Annotator.

'Be pleased to favour me with a speedy answer, if you are not willing toengage in this scheme; and appoint me a day to wait upon you, if youare.

'I am, Sir,

'Your humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

It should seem from this letter, though subscribed with his own name,that he had not yet been introduced to Mr. Cave. We shall presently seewhat was done in consequence of the proposal which it contains.

[Page 108: Irene. A.D. 1737.]

In the course of the summer he returned to Lichfield, where he had leftMrs. Johnson, and there he at last finished his tragedy, which was notexecuted with his rapidity of composition upon other occasions, but wasslowly and painfully elaborated. A few days before his death, whileburning a great mass of papers, he picked out from among them theoriginal unformed sketch of this tragedy, in his own hand-writing, andgave it to Mr. Langton, by whose favour a copy of it is now in mypossession. It contains fragments of the intended plot, and speeches forthe different persons of the drama, partly in the raw materials ofprose, partly worked up into verse; as also a variety of hints forillustration, borrowed from the Greek, Roman, and modern writers. Thehand-writing is very difficult to be read, even by those who were bestacquainted with Johnson's mode of penmanship, which at all times wasvery particular. The King having graciously accepted of this manuscriptas a literary curiosity, Mr. Langton made a fair and distinct copy ofit, which he ordered to be bound up with the original and the printedtragedy; and the volume is deposited in the King's library[314]. HisMajesty was pleased to permit Mr. Langton to take a copy of it forhimself.

The whole of it is rich in thought and imagery, and happy expressions;and of the _disjecta membra_[315] scattered throughout, and as yetunarranged, a good dramatick poet might avail himself with considerableadvantage. I shall give my readers some specimens of different kinds,distinguishing them by the Italick character.

'Nor think to say, here will I stop,Here will I fix the limits of transgression,Nor farther tempt the avenging rage of heaven.When guilt like this once harbours in the breast,Those holy beings, whose unseen directionGuides through the maze of life the steps of man,Fly the detested mansions of impiety,And quit their charge to horrour and to ruin.'

A small part only of this interesting admonition is preserved in theplay, and is varied, I think, not to advantage:

'The soul once tainted with so foul a crime,No more shall glow with friendship's hallow'd ardour,Those holy beings whose superior careGuides erring mortals to the paths of virtue,Affrighted at impiety like thine,Resign their charge to baseness and to ruin[316].' '_I feel the soft infectionFlush in my cheek, and wander in my veins.Teach me the Grecian arts of soft persuasion.'

'Sure this is love, which heretofore I conceived the dream of idlemaids, and wanton poets.'

'Though no comets or prodigies foretold the ruin of Greece, signs whichheaven must by another miracle enable us to understand, yet might it beforeshewn, by tokens no less certain, by the vices which always bring iton_.'

This last passage is worked up in the tragedy itself, as follows:

LEONTIUS.

'----That power that kindly spreadsThe clouds, a signal of impending showers,To warn the wand'ring linnet to the shade,Beheld, without concern, expiring Greece,And not one prodigy foretold our fate.

DEMETRIUS.

'A thousand horrid prodigies foretold it;A feeble government, eluded laws,A factious populace, luxurious nobles,And all the maladies of sinking States.When publick villainy, too strong for justice,Shows his bold front, the harbinger of ruin,Can brave Leontius call for airy wonders,Which cheats interpret, and which fools regard?When some neglected fabrick nods beneathThe weight of years, and totters to the tempest,Must heaven despatch the messengers of light,Or wake the dead, to warn us of its fall[317]?'

MAHOMET (to IRENE). 'I have tried thee, and joy to find that thoudeservest to be loved by Mahomet,--with a mind great as his own. Sure,thou art an errour of nature, and an exception to the rest of thy sex,and art immortal; for sentiments like thine were never to sink intonothing. I thought all the thoughts of the fair had been to select thegraces of the day, dispose the colours of the flaunting (flowing) robe,tune the voice and roll the eye, place the gem, choose the dress, andadd new roses to the fading cheek, but--sparkling.'

[Page 110: Johnson settles in London. A.D. 1737.]

Thus in the tragedy:

'Illustrious maid, new wonders fix me thine;Thy soul completes the triumphs of thy face:I thought, forgive my fair, the noblest aim,The strongest effort of a female soulWas but to choose the graces of the day,To tune the tongue, to teach the eyes to roll,Dispose the colours of the flowing robe,And add new roses to the faded cheek[318].'

I shall select one other passage, on account of the doctrine which itillustrates. IRENE observes,

'That the Supreme Being will accept of virtue, whatever outwardcircumstances it may be accompanied with, and may be delighted withvarieties of worship: _but is answered_, that variety cannot affect thatBeing, who, infinitely happy in his own perfections, wants no externalgratifications; nor can infinite truth be delighted with falsehood; thatthough he may guide or pity those he leaves in darkness, he abandonsthose who shut their eyes against the beams of day.'

Johnson's residence at Lichfield, on his return to it at this time, wasonly for three months; and as he had as yet seen but a small part of thewonders of the Metropolis, he had little to tell his townsmen. Herelated to me the following minute anecdote of this period: 'In the lastage, when my mother lived in London, there were two sets of people,those who gave the wall, and those who took it; the peaceable and thequarrelsome. When I returned to Lichfield, after having been in London,my mother asked me, whether I was one of those who gave the wall, orthose who took it. _Now_ it is fixed that every man keeps to the right;or, if one is taking the wall, another yields it; and it is never adispute[319].'

He now removed to London with Mrs. Johnson; but her daughter, who hadlived with them at Edial, was left with her relations in the country[320].His lodgings were for some time in Woodstock-street, nearHanover-square, and afterwards in Castle-street, near Cavendish-square.As there is something pleasingly interesting, to many, in tracing sogreat a man through all his different habitations, I shall, before this